Sunday, August 27, 2006

lost, riff #4

i'm making potions for my southie boy, dark-up from his boylstontoughies, all asmudge with streetly rambles, 'less he's lost me, wherewe hide from daddy's bruises, and let the whiskey do our supper song

he sees me with my morning shadows, hid beneath some wintercovers, laughing with those silly pixies, maybe crying for my tinker'sold despair, wondering if this dust can make me fly, 'cause i would

take my lad away, wash his feet in the salty sea, wash these tearsomedays until he sleeps his smiling sleep, 'less he's lost me, dancing downold riff-raff jingles, searching out a fancy gentleman, or two, or were you

Sunday, August 20, 2006

lost, riff #1

i may have lost my lover, sleeping botticelli in the dunes, or was iconfecting lime-sweet meringue to leave him quite a marvel, dolloppedbut i am ahungry for his sea salt, crusty glimmers for my taste, and

there are distractions in my roaming that i never fail, that knowmy poor caresses, sleep near to my night time frivols, and i can notwarm him sillied to the sun, or give him comforts to fit his riddle

ways, i am no slake to this thirsty laddy, and smile yet to the blowsyboys on Grand, delivering fame in mocha cups of froth, waiting forsome whoopee two-steps to fill my resume, i may have lost my lover

Monday, August 14, 2006

If you've been following this ad hoc space for any length of time, you'll notice that certain themes are recurring, often with imagery flowing across discrete poems. It's a jazz-ian take on poetry, riffs of a melody pursued from different angles, times, ages. Role-playing, relationships between father and son, aging, pursuit of love (in its various guises), are all preoccupations within my work. Every few weeks the theme morphs, sometimes gradually, sometimes quite noticeably.

My thematic changes, stylistic changes, are not actually conscious decisions. Place, circumstance play their tune. You may also have noticed that I take the jazz analogy a step further with my play on words. Usage, context, noun/verb mutability can lead to a density that can't be easily achieved through traditional means. But the very word 'tradition' carries cultural baggage defying criticism on levels deviant from pan-Euro / Americana notions. Roles have great inertia.